A few weeks ago a local mother was cleaning her 9 year-old son's room and noticed several holes chewed through the top of his pet hamster's cage. On further inspection, she noticed that one of the holes was large enough through which the small rodent could have escaped. Fearing the worst, she did what every loving mother would do. She violently shook the cage in hopes a small pink nose would emerge twitching from the blue stuffing. Nothing. She began searching for the escapee in hopes the animal was still in sight. However, the only unusual thing she found was a bag of hamster food that has been gnawed open. Realizing the poor animal must has escaped, the mother (who herself was no stranger to escaped hamsters when she was a child) hung the water bottle on the outside of the cage hoping Spot will find the water source and stay alive long enough to be found and caught. However, this would not be the case.
A few days ago, a faint unidentifiable odor had 
been noticed coming from her oldest son's room. While it is not entirely unusual to occasionally be caught off-guard by odors in and around that room, this one lingered. It was decided that the odor must be the result of the family dog having "done his business" on the floor when the boy insisted the small dog sleep in the bed with him a few nights ago. The caring father requested that the source of the odor be found and strongly encouraging the young lad to sniff his entire room. A few short minutes later the boy emerged, proudly announcing that he did not in fact, smell anything that could be identified as dog pee.
The next day, the odor had intensified a bit more. In addition, it had taken on a quality one might recognize (if one is the mother of young boys) as old food or spoiled milk. A quick repeat search again revealed nothing.
Today, however, as family members woke and bedroom doors opened, it was noted that the odor had evolved, mutated, and grown into something terrifying! This was an odor that was no longer invisible and quiet. No, this stench rose up and spoke, if not audibly, "I WILL NO LONGER BE IGNORED!" It hung in the air and permeated the home with a presence that sent the weak running for their very lives. The father confronted this loving, caring, mother with the estute observation that the odor had the quality he described as a "dead animal smell" and suggested, out of earshot of the children, that it could possibly be the remains of the rogue hamster. He suggested she aggressively search, discover, and eliminate the source of this unwelcome visitor. He then kissed her good-bye as he and the older two boys left for their day. Blinking from beneath the cover, she swore she saw a small smirk on his face as he headed out.
A few minutes later, this mother reluctantly got out of bed, walked quickly past the green fingers she swore she saw reaching beneath the closed door to her oldest son's room, and ran down the stairs to fix herself some tea and oatmeal. 
Very soon after, she heard her youngest son emerge from his room, groggy from sleep. As he stood at the doorway to her office he proceeded to cough, retch, and vomit. Although he denied having a stomach ache, he continued to moan, groan, and rub his stomach throughout their homeschool lessons for no apparent reason. Afterward, he went to his room to draw.
It was then that the mother decided it was time she prepared herself for the real battle for the day. No, the battle wasn't with the mom calling for the 20th time refusing to pay her bill for psychological testing for her son done almost a year ago. No, it wasn't with the foreign salesman who calls three times a day trying to sell generic
toner cartridges by the case. It wasn't even that ever looming question that plagues every mother every day of...WHAT AM I GOING TO FIX FOR DINNER TONIGHT!? No, those wars had been waged and victory had been claimed...for the day anyway. This battle was for the restoration of olfactory peace in her home. Armed with carpet cleaner and brush, high-powered vacuum and attachments, Febreeze, several Walmart bags (what would mothers do without Walmart bags?), and a very, very long handled spoon, she approached her foe.
She created a makeshift mask by pulling her shirt over her nose and mouth and forced her way into the room. Behind her she heard a slamming door as her young son protected the sanctity of his room. It was then that she realized the same thing he had known all along but was most likely too scared to tell her. "THERE'S SOMETHING IN THAT ROOM THAT IS MAKING ME FRO-UP, MOM!!" With window thrown open and 
ceiling fan spinning, the search was on!
As the bed was pulled away from the wall, and with an almost anticlimactic ending, there lay Spot. As the menacing, angry, green fog was sucked out to Jefferson Place to torture another family another day, the only thing the mother felt was sadness. Oh, if only it had been an old, dessicated, moldy piece of peanut butter sandwich, or a bulging cup about to explode from the gas-producing bacteria in a remnant of curdled milk. She lowered her "mask" and with spoon in hand, scooped the small, furry, not quite stiff animal into the trusty Walmart bag.
She sprayed and brushed carpet, vacuumed, Febreez-ed, and fanned the whole room all the while thinking about Spot and how she wished the animal had found the water bottle. Determined to just let the memory of the beloved pet go silently from the house like the smell out the window, she decided to keep the day a secret. The boys walked in from school and up to their rooms. A few seconds later she heard a loud voice coming from upstairs. "Who's been in my room?" The mother just smiled a small smile and fought a tear and said, "It was me, Sweetheart. I was just doing some cleaning."
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